


Easy Like Sunday Morning

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shower Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 07:02:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stares up at the loft ceiling, or lack thereof, wondering when exactly he and Stiles fell into this routine. Lazy morning sex. Followed by breakfast. Then lazing around all afternoon, exchanging kisses and handjobs while catching up on the shows they have waiting for them on the DVR.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Easy Like Sunday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I was prompted for fluffy Sterek shower sex, and bless the anon who asked for it. I've never written porn before, so I hope I did them justice.
> 
> Let's be frans on tumblr ([alphamexicat](http://alphamexicat.tumblr.com)). You can come prompt me if you'd like.

Derek can hear Stiles padding around in the kitchen, humming the theme song of The Golden Girls. Even without the werewolf sense of smell, Derek can tell that Stiles is making Denver omelettes because it’s what they always eat on Sunday mornings.

He stares up at the loft ceiling, or lack thereof, wondering when exactly he and Stiles fell into this routine. Lazy morning sex. Followed by breakfast. Then lazing around all afternoon, exchanging kisses and handjobs while catching up on the shows they have waiting for them on the DVR. Yet here he is, lying on his back in the middle of their freshly soiled bed, one arm thrown over his eyes to block out the sunlight coming through the massive wall of windows, the other rubbing at the warm come still on his stomach. 

He closes his eyes and lets his senses take over. He feels Stiles’ presence, even though he’s not really there. Remembering just moments ago, the feeling of Stiles underneath him as they rode out their orgasms together. The way Stiles tightened his legs around Derek’s waist and held Derek flushed against him with one arm flung across his shoulder, allowing them to pant into each other’s ears. The cool sweat droplets along his hairline that Derek kissed at, telling him over and over how amazing he is, how perfect they are for each other.

"Woah there, buddy!" 

Derek’s eyes shoot open, and he shakes his head before tilting it upward to see Stiles standing at the foot of the bed. The light is hitting Stiles at the perfect angle, illuminating the moles which pepper his neck and shoulders, showing off the chiseled lines of Stiles’ biceps, which Derek didn't even know Stiles had until the first time he got him naked. He stops his study of Stiles’ body and flicks his gaze up to Stiles’ face, who is now smirking at him. “Huh?” he grunts out.

Stiles looks down at Derek, then lower at Derek’s groin, which is only slightly covered by the flat sheet, with a small wet spot above Derek’s cock, and back up to Derek’s face, repeating this action over a few more times. “Dude, are you serious?” Stiles sighs and flails onto the bed, crawling over until he’s hovering Derek’s body, hands bracketing Derek’s face with his knees on either side of his hips.

He lifts one hand and runs it through Derek’s hair, lowering his head to place a soft kiss on Derek’s lips. Derek closes his eyes in anticipation of the kiss. Only Stiles stops and smiles against his mouth, barely touching. 

The hand that he originally had in Derek’s hair works its way down Derek’s body, rubbing at the ever-present stubble on his face, pinching at his nipple, which warrants a soft gasp, running his fingers at their shared come, which is sticking to the hair right below Derek’s navel.

Without notice, Stiles moves his arm between their bodies and snakes his hand under the sheet, swiping the palm of his hand in the pre-come from Derek’s dick, and Derek rolls his hips up to meet the touch. 

Stiles’ smile widens, Derek can feel it, before he presses on with a hard kiss. 

It’s a distraction, Derek thinks, and before he can wonder about anything else, he feels Stiles wrap his fingers around his cock, giving it a few testing pulls before tightening his grip. Stiles uses his tongue to part Derek’s lips, allowing Derek to moan into his mouth.

Derek attempts to raise his hips, trying to fuck into the ring that Stiles has formed with his hand, but Stiles has his thighs clenched tightly on either side of Derek, making it difficult for him to move. He practically cries, and Stiles just snorts.

Stiles pulls back from their kiss and sits back on his calves, straddling Derek’s lap. He takes his hand from Derek’s cock and rubs it against the sheets, wiping off the pre-come, before grinding down on Derek’s erection, eliciting a drawn out “Stiles” from Derek’s lips.

He places both hands on Derek’s chest and leans forward, giving a small kiss to Derek’s shoulder before looking him in the eyes. “Come on. Let’s shower before breakfast gets cold.” And with that, Stiles ungracefully clambers off of Derek, almost kneeing him in the groin. 

Derek groans, just watches as Stiles stretches in front of him, doing a very bizarre version of his sun salutations, and he almost wants to smile at his boyfriend before he remembers. “Stiles!” Derek shouts, and it nearly knocks Stiles off of his lunge. 

Stiles just rolls his eyes and shifts to his next position.

"What the hell do you expect me to do with this?" Derek waves a frantic hand over his now fully erect cock. 

Stiles, who is now in a forward fold, peeks through his legs back at Derek. He looks even angrier upside-down. Taking a deep inhale, Stiles swings up and shoots his hands toward the ceiling, giving a wink to Derek. “You can fuck me in the shower, Derek. You know, two birds, one stone kind of thing.”

Derek stares at Stiles, half-amused, half-offended, before realizing now is not a good time to be mad at Stiles, because _yes, that sounds like a great idea._  He pulls the sheet off of his leg before climbing off of the bed. On his way to the bathroom, he smacks Stiles on the butt, turning around to throw a wink and a smug grin back at him because he knows Stiles is gawking.

He turns on the shower, after some special skilled jostling of the faucets, and moves back over to the vanity to grab one of the many bottles of lube they have stashed around the loft. When he raises back up from the cabinets, he sees Stiles standing against the door frame with his arms crossed.

Stiles raises his eyebrows before he reaches out to grab Derek’s ass. “Eager, are we?”  He moves into the bathroom and removes his boxers - Derek’s boxers - before climbing into the shower. “Come on, wolfy.” Stiles demands before snapping his teeth shut. “You know I don’t bite.”

Derek moves into the shower next to Stiles, crowding into him underneath the shower head. He places the lube down in the little cubby of the shower, then he pulls Stiles body flush to his, front to front, before moving his hands up around Stiles’ neck, bringing him into a kiss. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek’s back, allowing one to pull his body closer, if that’s even possible, while the other plays with Derek’s wet hair.

They begin rolling their hips together, cocks sliding next to each other with only the water slipping between them to keep it from being uncomfortable. Stiles lets out a filthy moan when Derek breaks from their kiss, moving his way down to nose at Stiles’ jaw and kiss his neck. He brings his hands around to Stiles’ backside, kneading at his ass before cupping the back of Stiles’ thighs, encouraging him to jump up and wrap his legs around Derek’s waist and his arms around his neck.

Reaching around Stiles’ side, Derek grabs the bottle of lube and pours some into the palm of his hand before dropping the bottle to the floor. He slicks up his dick and rubs the rest onto his fingers. Derek maneuvers them so that Stiles’ back is pressed against the glass wall of the shower, and the water is still running on them, but they’re not going to drown from it. He runs one hand underneath Stiles, the other lube-free hand placed next to Stiles’ head. 

Derek rubs two fingers against Stiles’ hole a few times, feeling how loose he still is, before pushing in with no resistance. He watches as Stiles leans his head back against the wall, and Derek recognizes that move, so he latches onto Stiles’ neck, biting and sucking at the skin there as he fucks Stiles with his fingers. Stiles uncrosses his arms from behind Derek and digs his blunt fingernails into Derek’s shoulders.

"Fuuuuck, just - just do it." Stiles cries out. Their eyes meet before Derek gives Stiles a smug grin, removing his fingers before replacing them with his cock, pushing in very easily. Stiles’ entire body stills, the way it always does as though he’s unfamiliar with the feeling of Derek inside of him, before he lets out a breathy moan he was apparently holding in. 

Stiles pushes his ass down slightly so that it’s flush with Derek’s hips, and Derek takes that as an invitation to begin rocking into Stiles. “Wa-wait. Hnnggh. Wait.” Stiles squeezes his eyes shut, trying to maintain some composure. He opens them back up to see Derek staring at him confused. Stiles gives a quick shake of his head, dismissing any ideas Derek may have going through his mind, before reaching a hand back to grab the shampoo. “I told you. Two birds, one stone.” He pours out a dollop of shampoo before placing the bottle back into the cubby, then begins rubbing his hands together to get them sudsy before running them through Derek’s hair, allowing the water to rinse the shampoo away.

"Alright. Do me." He tells Derek, patting him on the cheek before crossing his arms back over his shoulders. Derek shrugs before grabbing at Stiles’ hips and pulling out to the tip, then thrusting back into him. Stiles yelps, and Derek does it again. "Oh my god, Derek!" Stiles moans out. He does it a few more times before he feels Stiles slap him on the back. "Derek! I meant- I meant for you to do my hair, you idiot." He gives Derek an incredulous yet enamored look, as though trying to communicate  _You’re a goof, but you’re my goof._

Derek looks boggled for a moment before giving him a sheepish smile, reaching back into the cubby for the shampoo. Stiles smiles at Derek while he washes his hair, and allows Derek to turn them so that the water can run over Stiles and rinse the shampoo from his own hair. Derek moves them back and presses Stiles back up against the wall like they were before. Stiles plants a kiss on Derek’s lips before licking a stripe across his mouth. “Proceed.”

Derek grabs Stiles by his hips, holding him in place, before drawing his own hips back to begin thrusting into Stiles again. “Fuck.” The two of them moan in unison. Derek rocks his hips back and forth, occasionally pulling Stiles down to meet his thrusts, before Stiles’ mouth goes wide, and he looks and sounds absolutely obscene. “Oh my god Derek, right there!” Derek buries his face into Stiles’ neck, pushing in at the same angle as before, rubbing over Stiles’ prostate again and again.

"Are you close?" Derek gasps out. Stiles doesn't say anything, but Derek can feel the vigorous shake of his head indicating yes. He can feel his own balls going tight, but he’s determined to make Stiles come first. Derek works one hand between their bodies and he begins to jerk off Stiles’ neglected cock. He works his hand on Stiles in the same rhythm as his own thrusts before he feels Stiles’ entire body begin to jerk, his body clenching around him. Then he feels the warmness from the sticky come between them, and he continues to rub at Stiles’ cock until he begins to whine from the sensitive touch.

Derek removes his hand from between them, placing it back up against the wall while the other still has a tight grip at Stiles’ waist. He places his forehead against Stiles’, and they look each other in the eyes as Derek feels his orgasm coming on. With one final thrust, or rather Stiles finding that little bit of energy left to slide down Derek’s cock, he’s coming inside of him. “I love you so much, Stiles.” Derek rasps as he struggles to keep his legs from collapsing from under the two of them. Stiles grabs Derek by the neck and kisses him slowly, running his other hand up and down Derek’s back as they both come down from their orgasms. 

When Stiles feels well enough to stand on his own two feet, he nudges at Derek to let him down. Derek pulls out slowly, leading Stiles to croon from the empty feeling, and takes a step back to give Stiles space to climb off of him, but before he can let Stiles go, he slips, and they both go falling onto the shower floor. Stiles quickly removes his legs from behind Derek to not have them be crushed by his brick wall of a boyfriend, and to not bruise his knees, so he ends up falling flat on top of Derek.

"Hey, you okay?" Stiles looks up to see Derek slightly wolfed out. He brings his hands up to stroke at Derek’s face. He kinda secretly loves wolfy-Derek too. He kicks his foot around until he realize the issue. "Hey Derek. You broke the bottle of lube. All OVER our shower."

"Alright, come on. I’ll clean this up. You go eat breakfast." Derek, back to his normal self, rubs a circle in Stiles’ back. He begins to lift up off of the floor before Stiles pushes him back down with one hand.

"Nuh uh." Stiles chimes. He looks down towards their feet, where the half full bottle of lube is, and back up at Derek, propping his chin on his sternum. "Let’s just… lay here for a second. Breakfast be damned."

Derek considers this while letting the water continue to run over their legs. He wraps his arm around Stiles’ arm, pulling him up closer, and draws him in for a kiss. When they break away, Stiles moves to use Derek’s shoulder as a pillow, and Derek can feel the smile on Stiles’ face. “Okay. Yeah.”

By the time they finish up with their shower, their omelettes are cold. It was worth it.


End file.
